


Experiment: Out of Closet

by MegaKlaine



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegaKlaine/pseuds/MegaKlaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had surprised John when Sherlock had told him he was a sub. But all of this was an experiment to Sherlock. Or at least... that's what Sherlock told himself. The experiment; to try and get John out of the closet. Results are not as hopefully as Sherlock expected, and certainly not what he wanted. fluff/smut/a little angst</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Simple Surprise Kiss

Sherlock had been staring at the same organism under the microscope for a long time now, he had offered him tea and digestive biscuits but still the detective wouldn’t talk to him. It wasn’t strange for Sherlock to be quite after a case solved, but this one had been different. This one had a girl, and a girl who had interested Sherlock.  Irene Adler was very gorgeous, but it was inappropriate how she had met them, let alone allow Sherlock study her.  _Only Sherlock could have gotten away with that._ John smiled smugly to himself, and flipped to the next page in the newspaper.

“John.” Sherlock’s voice was what John had become trained to, and he knew it was going to be a request.

“Not now, Sherlock. I just made you a cuppa”

“John.” This time John picked up on a little bit of want in Sherlock’s voice and turned to face the detective.

“What?”

“I am a sub.” Sherlock’s cold voice had seemingly frozen the room. John’s eyes darted over the detective; he was still staring at the organism, no sign of movement, but wait, _there_. John’s eyes settled on the tent that was forming in the detectives pants.

“Is that all then?” His voice came out breathless, longingly. _Crap._ John stood as Sherlock didn’t answer his question, eyes flickering over the detective and unconsciously resumed staring at his package.

“yes” John flushed as Sherlock turned to look at him, the blue eyes sent shivers down his spine and he felt the blood rush down his body.

“I’m going to the store then” Without any further words John grabbed his coat and slammed the door behind him, walking as fast as he could down the stairs to exit 221B.

Sherlock smiled as soon as John had closed the door. He had been right. John would insist that he was not gay every time someone looked accusingly at the pair, but he, Sherlock Holmes, had figured it out. John was gay. Sherlock grinned as he jotted down his confirmed hypothesis in his note book, thinking quietly to himself in his mind palace. He froze. Slowly removing his had from the microscope, he carefully unbuttoned his pants and slipped his hand beneath his boxers. _Interesting._ Of course Sherlock Holmes had been aroused before, and the feeling was no different. But getting aroused by the excitement of an experiment was something new and interesting. Quickly jotting down his discoveries and measurements, he withdrew his hand and focused back onto the microscopic organism.

25 minutes and 34 seconds later John was heard climbing up the steps. Another 40 seconds went by and he was opening the door, asking for some assistance with the groceries.  Grumbling to himself John was putting away the groceries, his mind being boring. Sherlock waited patiently for his chance, letting John walk past him before getting himself out of the chair.

“John.” The name sounded funny on his lips, being sweet and romantically sickening. He walked silently towards the doctor, so as John turned he was met with Sherlock’s kiss.

Sherlock grabbed the doctor by his shoulders pulling him in hastily, noting the amount of resistance the ex-army man was putting up.  John was trying to pull away. _No, no. this is going all wrong._ Pushing himself closer to john he felt his erection press up against John’s, eliciting a moan from the doctor.  _Stop._

Sherlock stepped back just as quickly as he had come, and studied the doctor. Mentally noting John’s flustered, flushed face and his hidden, most likely semi-erect dick.

“What the hell, Sherlock! What the _hell_ was that?! I am not gay!” John’s anger surprized the detective, and he watched the doctor storm away and slam his bedroom door shut.

He crept back over to his desk and picked up the pencil to jot down the results.

 

_Hypothesis: John H. Watson, doctor, former army member and current residence of 221B Baker Street is gay._

_~~Second Hypothesis: John h. Watson is in love with Sherlock Holmes.~~ _

_Procedure: Aid a friend in producing a self-accepting, self-declaring, proud out of the closet Watson. To produce results place subject in situations that prove he is gay._

_Experiment One: Simple-Surprize Kiss_

_Fact: Contact between sexual reproductive organs elicits a wanting moan from subject._

_Fact: Such sound causes increased blood pressure and heart rate, results in experimenters erection._

_Second Hypothesis: Sherlock Holmes is unfortunately, undeniably in need of John._

Sherlock stared longingly at John’s door. This experiment was indeed not going as planned.


	2. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Experiment #2 is underway, but when does anything go the right way when you're living with the worlds only consulting detective?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story does change Point of view from Sherlock o Johns and vis-versa. My Beta believes it is better to not include the transitions as necessary, but just so none of you get confused.

It was always a quiet Saturday, but still Sherlock sat alone on the couch staring blankly at the wall. He had gotten up hours ago, paced the house and made Ms. Hudson make him breakfast in exchange for playing the violin and still, no sign of John. He sipped silently on his tea, knowing John was awake. The experiment notebook lay in his hand. The second experiment was simple and couldn’t nearly go as wrong as the first. He would simply ask John if he had felt anything from the kiss. Of course denial was expected, but the dilated pupils and flushed cheeks would show the doctor’s lies. The doctor would always be interested in the reasons why. _Why._ Sherlock Holmes did not need a why. It was boring. All of Lestrade’s cases were easily solved, and Mycroft had thankfully been keeping to himself. As much as he detested his brother, he had to admit he usually held the best cases.

Sherlock heard John’s door swing open and the familiar footsteps of the doctor’s movement. He quickly hid the notebook in the side of the couch and resumed looking at the wall. He was glad that John would initiate the conversation; he had never been able to pull of his lying act now that John had seen it, besides only answering questions would make this experiment all the more fun.

John's stomach hadn’t shut up since 7am in the morning when Sherlock had decided to play his bloody violin. He couldn’t quite recall why he had ever accepted the offer of being his flatmate. Things always got weirder, especially yesterday. John had stormed off into his bedroom, flustered and confused. The kiss was, dare John say it, normal. It had felt normal. The erection was probably because of the lack of physical connection he has had. Yes, that was it. He hadn’t been laid in months; anyone in close proximation to his dick would have gotten the same response. Yes, that had to be it. John Watson was not, absolutely not, gay. With his thoughts resolved he realized he had made it into the kitchen and was already spreading jam onto toast, and the kettle has already just boiled. He took the toast and mug to his chair, when he saw him. The curly black hair had seemed to have fallen over the detectives eyes as he was seemingly studying his own mug. John mentally noted to thank Mrs Hudson again for putting up with Sherlock. 

He sat down on his arm chair and realized he was still staring.

“Sherlock.” His voice was at least normal, it even sounded irritable and he smiled to himself. "Sherlock we need to discuss yesterday."  

 “What happened yesterday?”

“You kissed me Sherlock!”

“Did I? Oh right. Yes.” Sherlock smiled at his own comment, knowing how flustered and mad John was getting already with his games. Suddenly John leapt to his feet, obviously agitated. 

“Fine then, I’ll just…”

“John.” Sherlock cut him off immediately, and stared into the doctors eyes, watching to make sure the doctor sat down again. Watching him slowly sink back down into his chair, he noted the odd feeling of satisfaction he got when John listened to him.

“Sherlock, all I want to know, all you have to tell me, all I really care about, is why.”  Sherlock noted how red John was turning each time he stuttered; mentally noting that he liked this trait.

“Simple.” His voice was bland and emotionless; it was exactly what he needed to continue on with the experiment. "How did it make you feel?"

John hesitated at the question; Sherlock fixed his eyes onto the doctors, noticing the blue eyes had regular dilation so far.

“What do you mean, how did it make me feel? You’re my best friend, Sherlock! You kissed me! What the hell is this meant to make me feel?! It wasn’t a socially acceptable thing, if that’s what you want to know. People don’t kiss their best friend! If you’re allowed to do it again, then that answer is also no. And if you’re asking if I had any feelings about the kiss because it was from you then let me remind you: I am not gay!”  By this time John was standing, and Sherlock realized that he had also stood up, and had silently come beside the doctor to provide assistance.

“I’m sorry Sherlock. I didn’t mean to-” His sentence was cut short by a sudden impact of Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock had just needed silence to think, and it was the only way he knew how in this moment. He realized that John was no longer pulling away; instead, John was pulling him closer. It wasn’t just Sherlock kissing, but John was kissing back, and it felt _good._

Lips clashing, Sherlock slightly opened his mouth to breathe only to be infiltrated by John’s tongue. The weird feeling continued, but seemed to elicit pleasure from John. He felt the silent moans against his lips and the doctors’ hands in his hair.

Suddenly the buzzing of Sherlock’s phone brought them back to reality. Sherlock stepped back to pick up his sleek phone and look at the message, noting the flustered beet red John.

“We have a case.”

He saw the disappointment in Johns eyes, the glimmer slowly fade, and watched how John put on a hard face as if nothing had happened.

“Shall we?” Sherlock grabbed his scarf and jacket, noting once more Johns face and seemingly breathlessness as they headed down the stairs, but also observing his own air of hindrance and dare he say it, _feelings._ The experiment was only getting more confusing. 


	3. The Re-trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiment is looking up. But what if it is no longer what Sherlock wants?  
> This is where the warning now starts to apply.   
> Masturbation

The case had been easy one to solve. A simple revenge case where the ex-boyfriend framed the father. Boring.  The only thing different, or _odd_ , was that they were gay. Of course this didn’t faze Sherlock, but the fact Lestrade couldn’t wrap his head around the possibility had seemed to have angered John. _John._

There he was, slumped in his chair his hands tying painfully slowly over the keyboard one letter at a time and his face scrunched up in concentration. His blue eyes darted over the computer screen, following his words, as he sat there typing furiously.

“What?” His blue eyes had darted upwards and Sherlock knew he had been caught staring.

“You’re angry.”

“Well, yes. I am. Did you not hear Lestrade? How imponderable it was that this kid was killed by his _boyfriend,_ because it had to be his disapproving father. His disapproving father who was obviously in regret. Not for the murder but for the disapproving. Yes, the father should have never hated his son publicly. But killing him?!” Sherlock smirked as he let John rant and stumble over his words in fury, watching the man’s eyes grow with passion and his face change expressions. Watching his muscles twitch with each word and his fingers freeze over the keyboard.

“Sherlock? Sherlock? Are you listening anymore?” Sherlock raised his eyes back up to those of the doctor and moved to the edge of the couch as if to grab his tea.

“You are frustrated at Lestrade’s stupidity. Yes. We already knew this. You _care_ about this case, John.” He let his words settle into the space between them, watching the doctor’s reactions carefully.  

“Look Sherlock. I’m not gay, and I don’t know how many times we have to go through this, but I’m not. Gay that is. I am straight. That kiss was uncalled for and I don’t know what is up with you, but I am not, _not_ , gay.I am simply surprized that Lestrade held that against the father for so long and couldn’t see that it was his boyfriend. Okay?” John lookerd up to see the cold blue eyes of the detective and watches as Sherlock rose from the couch and walk towards him. 

“John.” Sherlock’s hand extended towards him, as if asking him for a dance.

“John.” The abrupt demand made John shuffle the laptop out of the way and take Sherlock’s cold hand, who then pulled him upright to stand. The doctor looked into the taller detective’s eyes, letting the detective gather the information he was no doubt searching for.

“John, when I first met you I asked if you were from Afghanistan or Iraq. I told you everything about yourself, but one thing. You are gay. I am sorry for not telling you that I knew this when we first met.” 

The detective hadn’t moved or showed any intentions of lying, his cold eyes kept fixated on him, and John seemed to be paralyzed to the spot.

“Sher-” His voice was abruptly cut off again by the impact of Sherlock’s lips, this time one of Sherlock’s hands was pulling his face closer to the detectives and the other had never left its grip from when Sherlock had pulled him up. John let himself close his eyes, and stepped close to the detective, moving his free hand to the taller mans’ dark curls. He played with Sherlock’s lips and waited till he was granted entrance again, letting his tongue trace along Sherlock’s. He couldn’t help but to moan as Sherlock pulled their bodies closer, allowing his tongue more access into his mouth. His hand fumbled in the detectives’ hair, allowing himself to finally succumb to the kiss.

This feeling was nothing Sherlock had ever felt before. Hearing John moan beneath him, letting John's hands work their way through his curls, it felt _good._ It was a _feeling_. He felt John finally relax; his muscles that were fighting against the kiss were now working to make it stronger. The doctor continued to moan and Sherlock felt the blood rush down his body. He had to stop this.

Sherlock pulled back with all his might, leaving John wavering as he began to pace around the room. His mind flickering from place to place. This was all very bad, yet all very good.

“Sherlock?” John’s voice sounded hurt and the detective immediately turned, walking towards the doctor. Sherlock made sure to keep a good distance between them, and observe everything about the doctor his mind could handle.

“Sherlock I think you’re right” He watched as John’s blue eyes glimmered in the light, his big, dilated pupils a clear indication of arousal.

“Sherlock? Are you listening? I think you’re right.”

With that Sherlock took one last look at the doctor and stormed off into his room and slammed the door behind him, making sure it was locked. He immediately pulled of his pants to expose what he feared the most, his erection. There it was, seemingly staring back at him. He stumbled back against the door and slid down into a sitting position resting his head against the wooden door. He took his hand and began pumping himself, his thoughts flying but centralizing around one thing: John.

_John. John. John._ Faster and harder, his hand moved and tightened, his mind picturing the doctors face. His blond short hair and blue eyes, the way he smiled and even blinked, the way he licked his lips after the first sip of tea. The way John moved from one body to the next at a crime scene, the way his pants moved around his package as he would slowly crouch and stand. _“John.”_ The moan escaped him, unwelcomed, as he came in a flash of heat and longing.

“Sherlock are you okay?”

He heard the doctors’ faint voice but no sound of movement. He figured it didn’t require a reply. 

Sherlock finally looked down to observe his work, finding himself still upright, legs splayed on the floor below him but his coat unfortunately bearing stains.

Casually releasing his grip, he managed to collect a few breathes. Nothing, _nothing,_ had ever caused this reaction in the detective. He was able to pick himself off the floor and takw off his coat, throwing it on the ground beside his pants. He walked over to his bedside table and opened the drawer to reveal his notebook flicking through the pages, pen in hand.

_Hypothesis: John H. Watson, doctor, former army member and current residence of 221B Baker Street is gay._

_Procedure: Aid a friend in producing a self-accepting, self-declaring, proud out of the closet Watson. To produce results place subject in situations that prove he is gay._

_Experiment One: Simple-Surprize Kiss_

_Second Hypothesis: Sherlock Holmes is unfortunately, undeniably in need of John._

_Experiment Two: Get John to deny feelings (failed results, Lestrade interruption)_

_Experiment Three: Retrial of Experiment Two_

_Fact: John Watson nearly accepted to being gay._

_Pursuing Experiment further would achieve desired results._

Sherlock closed his note book, silently making his way to the shower, mentally calculating the amount of data he had left unrecorded and how much it would influence the end result, finally letting his mind decide there was only one fact that he had left unwritten in the book, but clearly dominant in his mind.

  _Fact: Sherlock Holmes is gay._


	4. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The experiment is seemingly drawing to a close. Everything is falling in to place. This has the rating for reasons.  
> Anal Sex and Swearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter. I originally had it split into two. But hang in their. This is /the/ chapter.

His room was normally quiet at this time in the morning, but he heard the familiar footsteps of John Watson circle around his bed, and he smiled. The bed sagged and John lay beside him, softly muttering to himself as he embraced Sherlock in a hug. Sherlock turned to the man, slowly kissing him, receiving moans that caused Sherlock’s blood to race down his body. He slowly rocked his hips forwards into the doctors, and as soon as their cocks brushed together it elicited the most arousing sound he had ever heard from the doctor.  He smiled to himself, and fluttered his eyes open.

 _Just another dream._ Sherlock groaned, and then suddenly froze in his bed. There had been movement. Calculating the weight distribution and how he felt off balance the results raced into his brain: he was not alone. Slowly. moving his gaze down the bed he saw John, real life John, sitting on the edge of the bed flicking through the notebook. _The notebook._

“That’s mine.”

John jumped at the detectives’ sudden cold words and turned, his cheeks slightly flushed but his face showed no compassion.

“This” he motioned to Sherlock and himself, his eyes widening “This was an experiment to prove a point? This was all a lie! This was just another experiment to you!”

Sherlock studied the doctor, noticing not the anger, but the pain in his eyes. "John."

The doctor turned from Sherlock and looked at the wall.  _Stubborn as always._

“John, you mean more to me than any experiment.” Sherlock pulled himself up and crawled towards the doctor, not caring about his exposed body.

John looked behind him and jumped again at Sherlock’s proximity. The detectives breath on his neck sent shiver down his spine, but he wasn’t giving in that easily. Sherlock then awkwardly wrapped his arms around John in a hug and the doctor finally relaxed. It felt natural. It felt good to be in his friends arms again.

“So all that kissing, all that checking me out, was to prove that I was gay?” John turned his head slightly to look into Sherlock’s light blue eyes, but was instead met by a kiss. It was clumsy, and awkward, and very uncomfortable. He threw the notebook on the ground, noticing the detectives’ slight cringe at the mistreatment of his equipment but John didn’t care. He pushed Sherlock down onto the bed and turned to finally face the man, suddenly noticing he wasn’t clothed. Ignoring the feeling of his own hormonal response, he closed the distance between them with a kiss, snogging the detective like it was his dying moment.  _Sherlock had known all this time, well now it was to prove him right._  He pushed himself into the detective, letting his hands rumble through his black locks of hair and caress the side of his thin body. 

“Move.” John didn’t realize how demanding his word sounded until he saw Sherlock’s eyes grow in surprise, then watched as the detective wriggled out of his grasp and place himself at the top of the bed.

“It wasn’t to _prove_ I was right. It was for you to declare I was right.” Sherlock said, his eyes returning to their cold blue.

John stared at Sherlock, smiling at his words as he pulled off his sweater and t-shirt in one go. Watching the detective try and control his physical reaction. Smiling teasingly, John unbuttoned his pants and removed them. He felt his face flush in embarrasement, but this was Sherlock. His best friend. The best man he had ever known. Lying naked underneath him, and he wasn't about to waste any more time. He felt his own blood rush south, and quickly removed his boxers, throwing them on the floor as he moved up to the detectives side, throwing himself at the glorious man. He met Sherlock with a kiss, allowing his hands to finally touch Sherlock’s body.

 _John._ The doctor was on top of him. Shirtless. Pantless. _Naked._ Sherlock walked around the house nude often enough that it as a regular occurrence, and of course he had seen John naked, but only when “accidently” walking in on him and a girlfriend, or in the shower, or on one hot summer days when the air conditioing broke down, or. Sherlock shook his head out of the train of thoughts he was loosing his point. _Yes_  he had seen John naked, but never before had he seen John naked and on top of him. This was a change he liked. He was able to fully evaluate John; he felt his muscles and strength with every touch, the passion with every kiss, and when Sherlock moved his hands to pull the doctor deeper into the kiss he could even take his pulse. He could deduce everything, yet _nothing_ , from the man that was on top of him; but it didn’t matter. John was here, and John was finally his.

Sherlock rocked his hips up to brush against John, and just like it did in his dreams, it elicited the most arousing moan from the doctor. Sherlock smiled, letting his hips rock up again into John, his fingertips scratching at his back, clawing John closer. His eyes locked with those of the doctor, the blue eyes full of lust and want, yet also love. He knew John needed contact, and he needed it to.

John responded quickly, driving downward onto the writhing Sherlock below him, allowing their cocks to rut together, moaning his tension away. Driving his hips downwards onto Sherlock, he realized that Sherlock had also started to moan. He smiled, allowing himself to break the kiss and stare into the blue eyes of his flatmate.

“You stopped. Why did you stop?”

“I thought you would maybe want to discuss this.”

“What?”

“Us?”

“Now? John?”

“Well, I thought, maybe, you would want to discuss who was on top aaaaan” John was cut short at the sudden contact, as Sherlock had his hand now wrapped tightly around his dick. Sherlock’s eyes were gleaming mischievously and gave John a few pumps, short but fast, the grip impressivly tight yet oh so enjoyable. He couldn’t help but to moan and lunge forward into Sherlock’s magical grip, his hips bucking instingivly.

“I already told you.” Sherlock’s hiss made John stop his movement, and his eyes locked onto those of the detectives once more, and he felt Sherlock position his cock to the base of his entrance. He must have looked scared, as Sherlock then nodded and pulled John closer, whispering deeply into his ear "I'm waiting." 

The words sent shivers down his spine, as if keeping Sherlock waiting was ever, ever a good thing. A bored Sherlock sent the appartment into a mess, holes into the walls and miss Hudson pounding on their door, and they did not need that right now. He slowly raised his head, his breathing abored as he nodded. His hand moved to the bedside table, fumbling but able to grab the lube and a condom, which he had found when he was searching for the notebook and had conveniently placed on the table to accuse Sherlock with later. Smiling at himself for the different use then the original intention, he sufficiently coated his finger and placed the bottle down on the bed, slowly teasing a finger around Sherlocks' puckered hole.

"I've wanted to do this for so long, Sherlock. To have you like this. To know that I am more to your mind then your skull or tea. That I can be useful. i can be an assistant in so much more then cases."  Sherlock's breath hitched at his words and John slowly inserted one finger into the detective. Hearing Sherlock’s whimper nearly made John come loose right there and then, but instead he slowly moved the finger in and out of Sherlock's body. He let the detective adjust before inserting a second, and then started stretching him, concentrating so hard he didn’t notice the detective lightly start to trace the outline of his wounded shoulder, followed by his muscled arms then stomach. As soon as he inserted three, he felt Sherlock’s hand on his neck, and looked up into the detectives’ eyes.

Nothing had to be said between the two, he instantly saw Sherlock’s love for him, and it was like a long awaited spark lit the fire. John no longer cared what people thought, or said, or even knew. He, John Watson, was in love with Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock admired the man sitting on top of him, reading his mind clicking and turning, and smiled when Johns mind had accepted them. "Finally" He pulled John down into a kiss, only cringing slightly as the fingers were removed from his body and replaced with the feeling of John's cock. For once Sherlock’s mind was calm and peaceful, the only thoughts were on John. Johns raspy breathes and slow movement into him. How he felt stretched and oh so full. Sherlock breathed steadily and allowed himself to adjust to John’s length and width. Adequate size for his body type, and Sherlock wasn't about to complain.

John slowly rocked himself back and Sherlock gasped, getting his attention, to only be slammed into once more and moaning in response. John’s slow, rhythmic movements felt good. Feeling a bit eager, Sherlock used the knowledge his mind could draw upon on how to make it feel better for John and did so. He started rocking his hips with John’s movements, producing grunts and groans from the doctor. Taking his hands, he clawed the doctor into him thrust after thrust. It wasn't perfect, but it was them.

The speed increased, the rhythmic thrusts extended to the movement of the bed, the weight of John thrusting down into Sherlock, producing a cry of delite. They were both getting close. Sweat was beading off of Johns forehead as he locked eyes with Sherlock, giving him a twinkling smile, before readjusting and _oh god yes._ Thrust after thrust John managed to brush his prostrate occasionally and he could feel himself come close, his eyes flickering closed as he felt the flash of heat, letting john thump continuously into him. He felt Johns hand grab around his length and begin stroke himself to the thrusts, his toes curling.

“OH!" He threw his head back and let himself cum, allowing the semen to splutter onto himself and John. He felt his face flush in colour, and opened his eyes to the most glorious sight. John was still thrashing into him, coated in a glistening sweat, his face scrunched up and bright red, groaning and moaning, and crying out words of profanity.

“Oh fucking yes. Sherlock. Fuck!”

Sherlock beamed, and let John thrash on top of him. John thrusts became less and less rythmic and more sparastic, and with a ly smile Sherlock tried to do what he read about so often and clamp aound John. His attempt obviously wored, his muscles tightning, the friction becoming a little bit painful but John's reactions were worth documenting. John's face turned the mos beautiful shade of red as he thrust deep throughout his orgasm, once finished he allowed John to collapse on top of them both, panting from the exersion. The pair of them covered in semen and sweat. Their breaths were soft and shallow, and Sherlock found himself only able to move his hand into the doctors short hair as John peppered kisses over his chest.

“I love you John.” John’s eyes flew open, and Sherlock admired the man on top of him.

“I love you two, Sherlock… I always have… But… You won’t stop at this experiment until I declare that I’m gay, right?”

The blue eyes of John gleamed as he made eye contact, sending a ripple of pleasure through Sherlock and he found himself chuckling, even though he was still barely able to move.

“An experiment is never over until I am right” Sherlock smiled as the doctor blushed at his reply. He saw everything in the man that he loved in that instance: the spark, the stubbornness, the quick, the brave, the smart, the rational, the strong, the tough, the loving John; his John. The man that he loved, flopped on top of him in utter exhaustion, and felt instantaneously happy. **_His John_**. He smiled, watching the doctors eyes dilate and smile in response.

“In that case Sherlock, I am most definitely not gay.” 


	5. Epilogue -The Bonding Over Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since John discovered Sherlock's case. You could say John likes to make things equal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written as a one shot, but the plot is heavily dependent on the previous story to make sense. (as it is referenced a lot.) Expect a little bit of Sub/Dom tendencies.  
> Italics are Sherlock's thoughts. Enjoy his mind

Sherlock heard the familiar footsteps of John pace around the flat, opening a cupboard and closing it before clambering down the stairs. He didn’t glance up to the doctor or pay any attention to him as he heard the footsteps approaching him, his fingers flying over the computer keyboard as he typed up the data that he had collected thus far from the current case. He didn’t glance up until it was too late and fabric was being wrapped around his eyes.

“What? John?”

The doctor held one of his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders, keeping him seated. “Relax, Sherlock. I want to talk to you.” Sherlock fidgeted, but calmed at John’s voice.The fabric against his face was soft, cotton, 70%, delicate, cheap, but definitely a blind fold.

“Why do I need to-Oooh.” Sherlock stopped when he felt John grab his hands and take them behind his back, starting to tie them together.

“Don’t move Sherlock, unless you want me to tie your legs to this chair, you are staying put!” John’s words were an order, and Sherlock stopped his movements, letting the more commanding, military side of John win, and allowing John to finish tying his hands behind his back. Testing the bonds with some movements he made two deductions: there was no way of getting out of the knot, and John had used one of his ties. _His ties!_

“Sherlock, stop fidgeting. I wanted to talk. Without you reading the whole conversation before it happens.”

 _Boring._ But he nodded anyways. He was totally under John’s control and he couldn’t help but be aroused and frustrated by the doctors’ persistence and effort to make him co-operate. He felt his blood rush down his body, but he did the best to conceal it, crossing one leg over the other, turning his head in the direction of John’s voice.

“This was all an experiment to you, getting me ‘out of the closet’?”  Sherlock could hear the pain in John’s voice, and shook his head. _No._

 _“_ Then tell me Sherlock, why did you do it?”   _Frustration. Why is he annoyed? He shouldn’t be annoyed. He enjoys what we do together. Why question a method that works? Doubt? No. No. Not so complicated. Reason. He wants my true reasoning._

“I discovered you were gay, deduced it a while back really. You obviously wanted to hide it after I rejected you on our first night out, so I accepted it as it was. I told you I was married to my work. Then you didn’t leave after you shot the cabby. You stayed. You didn’t run from me, instead you ran towards me. I deduced the feelings were reciprocated. I just needed a reason to act on them. I used the experiment as an excuse, in reality it was to convey that the feelings were mutual, and that I wanted to act on them.”  Sherlock’s words raced out, realizing suddenly it was a deduction of himself and that he had basically told John that he loved him. He froze. Without his senses he wasn’t able to deduce John, the room was silent and he hated it.

 _My tie. 100% cotton outer shell, silk tie, firm. 70 inches long. Wide. My black one, unused around John. Only use it twice._ Sherlock made the deductions, calming down his nerves. _Was this nerves? Is this what it is like to be anxious?_

“You are attracted to me?” John’s words were low and rough, Sherlock felt his erection grow and become uncomfortable in his trousers, and nodded. The doctor laughed a laugh of relief and Sherlock realized he was grinning.

“I turn you on?” John’s voice was getting closer to him, and he felt himself blush. _Yes. Yes. John. Only you. John. Come closer. Touch me John. I need you. John. JOHN._ Sherlock gave a stiff nod

“That so?” the voice was a growl in Sherlock’s ear, he gasped in shock from the closeness of John’s breath, and heard his laughter. _John must be in front, but was moving away. No, not away, down._

Sherlock’s gaze followed his thoughts, struggling with his binds, wanting to see John.

“Very good deductions, Sherlock. Very good indeed.” The praise in John’s voice sent a ripple of satisfaction throughout the detective’s body.

“Take off your pants.” Sherlock struggled with his hands bound behind his back. John knew he was confined and couldn’t move, making the task impossible, even for him.

“That’s an order, Corporal.” Sherlock froze at John orders, his erection pressing hard against his trousers. _His orders. That name. John. John. John._  He felt John’s hand on his zipper and he gasped as the doctor pulled at his trousers. Lifting his hips, he allowed John to pull of his trousers and boxers in one movement. Sherlock waited for movement but felt none. He had no idea where John was and struggled against the bonds stopping when he felt cold leather against his cheek. _Cold leather, worn, worked, flexible… tip of a riding crop._ Sherlock felt his erection grow to its full length in anticipation. His deduction was rewarded by a harsh blow from the crop, a moan escaping his lips.

“ _Very_ good. You enjoy this, Sherlock? Are you enjoying _my_ experiment?”

Sherlock felt himself blush at the words, desire and want building inside of him. “ye-” _slap!_ another blow, this time to his shoulder.

“ _I_ never said you could talk.”

Sherlock bowed his head, submitting to John’s voice. He was rewarded with Johns tongue tracing the length of his erection. He felt his breath heighten, his mind spinning.

  _I can deduce nothing._

_John knows this._

_He is making me submit… I love it._

 “Joh-oh” Sherlock felt the cold leather whip on the underside of his erection.

“What did _I_ say about talking?” John’s voice was a low, deep, lustful voice. Sherlock stopped, but he felt the blindfold loosen, the lights blinding at first, but he quickly took in the scene: John, in his ruffled grey jumper and jeans, his sandy grey hair in perfect shape and the riding crop in his right hand. Smiling.

“I am going to finish you, Sherlock. I…I don’t think I have it in me yet to do it as a Dom, but please, come for me.”

Without any more words , Sherlock just watched in amazement as John knelt down before him, taking his entire length in his mouth, bobbing his head at a fast pace. _John. John. John. JOHN._

Sherlock felt the heat in his stomach pooling, and threw his head back as he arched into John’s mouth, not realizing his thought were now being vocalized. He came in spurts. a flash of white light behind his eyes as he couldn't help but to thrust into John's perfect mouth.

“I… Thank you… John.” Sherlock voice was low and rough, but he smiled as he looked down at the doctor whose blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

“That’s captain to you. So not only do you like to submit, but you have an army kink. These experiments aren’t over yet!” John was giggling as he walked to the kitchen.

 _Fast pace. Towards kettle. Cuddling. I’m going to have to wait for **my** military John._ Sherlock smiled at his last deduction. As much as he hated waiting, waiting for John was always worth it. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> **This was originally posted on fan fiction net, but I like this site better. Also have made edits but the original is here http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8681861/1/Experiment-Out-of-Closet **


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